


cheer up, baby

by Anonymous



Category: TXT (Korea Band)
Genre: Fluff, I'm Sorry, M/M, Mirror Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, improper use of lightsticks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:21:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22364038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The same day a box of the newly minted lightsticks had been delivered to their dorms, Soobin cornered Yeonjun after lunch to proposition him with a strange request.Yeonjun was a little intrigued, despite himself.
Relationships: Choi Soobin/Choi Yeonjun
Comments: 20
Kudos: 341
Collections: Anonymous





	cheer up, baby

**Author's Note:**

> no thoughts head empty

Yeonjun's breath hitches as he braces his hands against the practice-room mirror for support. So it had come to this. There are a multitude of emotions he's experiencing at the moment, regret being the chief one. He should have known better than to run his mouth so carelessly, after all this time.

"It's not _that_ bad." Taehyun had said when they'd all crowded around Yeonjun's phone during a break. 

"It's fucking hideous." Yeonjun sighed, as he looped the trailer for their official fandom lightstick again. 

"Well, _I_ like it!" said Huening Kai, grabbing Yeonjun's phone out of his hand for a closer look. "Me too." said Beomgyu. "Look Hyuka-yah, she's your favorite color. It's cute." 

"No one else seems to think so." Yeonjun pointed out, snatching his phone back and scrolling through the sea of disgruntled tweets. The general reaction wasn’t exactly positive, to put it kindly.

"That's not true! See, plenty of people think it's pretty!" protested Kai, pointing at a tweet gushing about the soft shamrock green.

"She's a grower, not a show-er," added Taehyun, taking a final swig from his water bottle as their dance teacher signalled for them to get back into formation.

"Like us." said Beomgyu, trying to be profound. It sort of worked. 

Soobin had been suspiciously quiet all through this interaction. At the time, Yeonjun had chalked it up to the notion that he, too, was underwhelmed by the somewhat tacky design of the cheering stick and the mixed reviews that came with it. Despite his own reservations, Yeonjun suddenly felt an intense wave of protectiveness, both for Soobin and their new lightstick. 

He punched Soobin on the shoulder playfully. "Cheer up, Soobin-ah! Even if the fans are disappointed right now, they'll definitely come around." 

"I don't doubt it, hyung." Soobin had said, a quaint layer to his tone that Yeonjun couldn't quite place. 

***

  
That had been a week ago. Yeonjun bites his lip hard enough to draw blood, wondering how he'd ended up here — painfully hard, with Soobin pressed against his back with the intention of sticking a glowing LED up his ass.

"You're doing so well, hyung!" Soobin says, a tad too enthusiastically for Yeonjun's taste. 

" _Shut up_." Yeonjun wants to hiss. He _nearly_ pulls it off, only it turns into a high-pitched keening noise halfway through when Soobin chooses that moment to twist his fingers inside him.

"You know, as soon as I saw our lightstick that day, I couldn't help but think it looked kind of familiar." Yeonjun doesn't want to know what kind of dildos have been popping up on Soobin's Amazon Recommended for him to make _that_ association.

The same day a box of the newly minted lightsticks had been delivered to their dorms, Soobin cornered Yeonjun after lunch to proposition him with a strange request. Yeonjun had been reluctant at first, to say the least ("You want to do _what_ with it?), but he'd come around in the end. He never could say no to Soobin. And if he was being honest, Yeonjun was a little intrigued, despite himself. He was disgusted, sure, at his own lack of willpower; disgusted at tarnishing something that was supposed to be a symbol of their fan's love for them, and yet. And yet. 

One of Soobin's hands has been inching up Yeonjun's chest, rucking his sweater up under his armpits as he lazily fondles a nipple. The other snakes around to the front, grazing Yeonjun's stomach and briefly toying with his leaking cock before letting go again. It's agony. _Fucking tease_. 

"Are you gonna fuck me any time soon or do I have to do everything myself, _leader_?" Yeonjun asks, struggling to keep his composure.

He sees Soobin's reflection pout as he withdraws his fingers from Yeonjun's hole without a warning. Yeonjun gasps at the sudden emptiness, hands scrabbling for purchase on the smooth glassy surface of the mirror. 

"Patience is a virtue, Jjunie-hyung." says Soobin, the nickname rolling off his tongue like honey. Yeonjun shudders— Soobin only ever uses it when they're alone together, often when one or both of them are naked. 

Perhaps sensing that Yeonjun is at his limit, Soobin pulls out the accursed lightstick from his back pocket, generously slathering it with lube that he'd procured from Yeonjun-doesn't-even-want-to-know. 

Yeonjun's eyes widen when he catches sight of it's girth. " _Oh_ no, nonono there is _no_ way that's going to fit." He rambles, panicky.

Soobin considers it for a second, turning it over in his palm. "It's smaller than me, I think." He says thoughtfully, like they're just discussing shoe-sizes or something. "You can do it, hyung. Hwaiting!"

"I'm going to _kill y_ —"

Soobin just laughs, pressing a kiss into Yeonjun's shoulder, and like clockwork, Yeonjun _melts_. He can't help himself. 

"Hey, you know we don't have to do anything you don't want to, hyung." Soobin says, voice suddenly soft. "We can stop right now if you want. Go grab a late dinner instead?"

Yeonjun locks eyes with Soobin through the mirror, where he can see him trying to exercise his leader X-ray vision thing that he does sometimes, searching for the slightest hint of hesitation or doubt. Yeonjun appreciates the thought, he really does, but the idea of leaving this room unsatisfied after being fingered open for nearly forty minutes sounded like hell of the most nefarious kind. He grabs onto Soobin's arm, grinding back on his Adidas sweats with resolve.

"We," he says, listening to how Soobin's breathing becomes uneven as his hands come up to still Yeonjun's hips, "Are not going _anywhere_ until we both come, alright?"

"Ah, alright." Soobin says. Yeonjun notices with some satisfaction that he sounds a lot shakier than before. _Good_.

The first press of cold plastic against his rim makes him yelp. Soobin was right, the bulk wasn't anything Yeonjun couldn't handle, but the texture and feel of it was something completely new to him. He winces, trying to get used to the unfamiliar shape. 

"Does it hurt?" Soobin asks, sounding concerned.

"N-no." Yeonjun says. "Keep going."

Soobin slides the hilt of the lightstick inside slowly, inch by arduous inch. Yeonjun knows the younger boy must be studying his face through the mirror, carefully gauging his reaction. A small, petty part of him tries not to look like he's enjoying it _too_ much, at the very least. 

It seems to take forever — why was Soobin being so slow? Yeonjun wasn't some kind of doll, for fuck's fucking sake, and this wasn’t his first time. He could take it. 

"Hey Soobin-ssi, can you _hurry up_?" he says through gritted teeth, when it gets to be just this side of too much. His cock is painfully hard, he just wanted Soobin to fuck him already. 

"'Wanna take my time." Soobin hums, pressing another kiss into the side of Yeonjun's neck to placate him. Yeonjun shivers involuntarily, the warmth of Soobin's mouth leaving him aching for more. "Hyung is so pretty like this, after all."

Yeonjun closes his eyes. If he could've come right then and there, he would. Ever since debuting it was like Soobin had been hit by this supernatural wave of confidence, no longer bound by as many insecurities as he’d had in their teens. Yeonjun was happy for him, of course. Soobin was amazing in every way and he deserved to know it. He just wishes he could’ve been given some kind of warning before it happened, though— he still doesn’t fully know what to do with himself around this new, suave Soobin.

"It's in." Soobin says after what feels like an age. Yeonjun feels so full, the head of the lightstick resting against the swell of his ass. 

"G-great." He says, relief almost making his knees give way. "Now fuck me."

Soobin seems all too eager to comply, sliding the handle almost all the way out and back in. Yeonjun moans, long and loud, not caring about whether their studio was soundproof; not caring about a damn thing other than how good it felt to finally have some kind of friction. 

"That good, huh?" Soobin says, resting his chin on Yeonjun’s shoulder. His tone is light but Yeonjun can hear how breathless he is.

Soobin sets a steady pace fucking the lightstick in and out of Yeonjun. Yeonjun presses his forehead against the cool surface of the mirror, soft, breathy moans falling out of his lips of their own accord. The raised cross-shaped buttons on the side of the handle graze along his walls in the most delicious way with every thrust. It's too much and not enough at the same time. 

"Open your eyes, hyung." Soobin's voice is right by Yeonjun's ear. He hadn't even noticed that he'd had his eyes squeezed shut. "Look at yourself. Look at what a mess you are."

With that, he gently pulls Yeonjun's head back to rest on his collarbone. 

Yeonjun isn't the type to give into other people's demands so easily — especially not those made by someone younger than him — but he tells himself that this is a special case. Squashing down his embarrassment, he blinks his eyes open, the corners already blurry with unshed tears. 

And God. Soobin is right. Yeonjun _does_ look like a mess. His reflection's hair is disheveled and sweaty, every inch of visible skin flushed pink. His bottom lip is swollen and wet from where he was repeatedly worrying it between his teeth. Yeonjun's knuckles are white with how tight he's gripping the arm Soobin has wound around his waist for support. He wonders whether this is how he looks every time they have sex. The idea is both shameful and liberating, in the best way.

Soobin shifts the lightstick slightly, changing the angle and making Yeonjun keen. This shouldn't, shouldn't feel as good as it does. He’d never have pinned himself as the type of person to be so wrecked by a semiconductor, but then again, maybe it wasn’t the lightstick at all. Maybe it was just Soobin. Yeonjun doubted he’d be so turned on if it were anyone else whispering soft encouragement into his neck the way Soobin is doing now. 

"Does it feel good, hyung?" Soobin asks, his fingers digging into the taut skin of Yeonjun's stomach. _That's going to bruise_ , the microscopically coherent part of Yeonjun notes. He nods slightly, his lips parting in pleasure as the hilt of the lightstick hits a particularly sensitive spot.

"Who would’ve thought our— our fans’ love would make you feel like this, huh?"

Even in his pleasure-addled daze, Yeonjun smacks Soobin on the arm.

"Don't talk about our- _ah_ — fans when you're literally fucking me, you perv."

"Sorry, crossed a line." Soobin chuckles, tightening his hold on Yeonjun. Yeonjun is grateful, because he doesn't think he can hold himself up for much longer, the sensations making his knees weak. 

Inadvertently, his gaze strays to Soobin’s reflection instead, and what he sees makes the heat at the base of his stomach nearly bubble over. Soobin looks like he’d just run a marathon, his black hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. Yeonjun knows he made quite a big fuss to get to this point, but just then he wouldn't trade anything in the world for the naked want in Soobin's eyes — how much he looks like he wants to eat Yeonjun alive and kiss him tenderly at the same time.

Yeonjun realizes with a pang of hot delight that that look is because of him. Soobin looked like that for _him_. He wasn't even inside Yeonjun, wasn't even properly touching him, but he already looked so far gone. He's hard, too. Soobin had gotten hard just to the sight and sound of Yeonjun slowly falling apart. It's the hottest thing Yeonjun has ever seen. 

He feels the pressure build, slow and hot. He wants to cry — he’s _so_ , _so_ close but it’s still not enough. Soobin is going too slow and this damned lightstick isn’t the warmth Yeonjun is craving. Desperately, he whines low in his throat, pride be damned. “S-Soobin-ah, _please_.” Soobin seems to understand, because he increases the pace of his thrusts and takes Yeonjun’s cock in his other hand.

It takes one, two pumps and Yeonjun is coming with a silent scream, all over Soobin’s fingers and onto the hardwood floors of their dance studio. That was going to be a _bitch_ to clean.

Yeonjun comes down from his high to Soobin murmuring praise and kissing every available inch of skin he can reach. They’d sunk to the floor after Yeonjun’s legs had finally given way, the offensive lightstick tossed to the side without a second thought. He’s sensitive all over and knows he’ll feel it during choreo practice tomorrow.

“So.” Yeonjun says, after his heartbeat has moderately slowed down. “That was _something_.”

“It was.” Soobin agrees. “How do you feel?” 

“I feel the sudden urge to get on WeVerse and apologise to our fans. Also, I think you’re a weirdo and don’t know why I’m so into you.”

Soobin giggles, pulling Yeonjun against his chest. “I love you too, hyung.”

Yeonjun just sighs, even as he feels his cheeks heat up with a sudden rush of affection. His eyes are already closing, weariness taking over his body. Yawning, he curls up against Soobin, reaching up momentarily to pat his cheek twice. 

“I’m gonna take a break, but when I wake up we’re going again. And this time you’re fucking me _properly_ , yeah?”

He hears Soobin gulp.

“Yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> if my legacy in this fandom ends up being "that one guy who wrote lightstick porn" then so be it


End file.
